Objections Overruled
by ShutUpAndPull
Summary: A first-meeting AU story: Attorneys, Katherine Beckett and Richard Castle, who seemingly have little in common, find themselves on opposite sides of a divorce case and, to their surprise, with a very similar interest-namely each other. (Rating is precautionary, but likely applicable)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **As seems so often the case, I find myself here again, jumping without a parachute, so I'll thank you in advance for your patience as I work this thing to its end. As always, you have my humble appreciation for your indulgence, and I hope these days of summer (perhaps winter for some) are treating you kindly.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

As it too often did of late, Kate Beckett's morning alarm reached out and struck her like a mallet to the head, its insufferable hiss a racket she couldn't possibly ignore. She had the radio's dial purposefully parked between stations, the volume ticked up to a level that bordered on sadistic, and the most aggravating part of it wasn't the daily jolt to her heart, but that she only had herself to blame for the self-inflicted rack, having allowed her sleep pattern over the past few months to become as erratic as a blindfolded man riding a bicycle.

Despite repeated accusations of having an obsession with her work-namely from a best friend who rarely had opportunity to see her anymore-Kate preferred to think of herself as simply committed. After all, a person couldn't throw a rock without hitting an attorney it seemed, in her city or any other, and at just three years into her own practice, she had to do whatever it took to keep the clients she managed to woo away from rivals who shamelessly plastered their faces across benches at bus stops. Without them, all she had was a cat and a shitload of debt.

She slid an arm free from beneath her pillow and flung it wildly in the direction of the clock, the stack of pleasure-reading books beside it on the nightstand an unintended casualty of her wayward limb. It crashed to the floor with a clatter, her groan of frustration in its wake evidence of a sequence she wasn't entirely unfamiliar with.

On second effort, her swat landed its mark and the unbearable-for-one-more-second rasp silenced. Kate rolled onto her back, her resentful eyelids open but a sliver, the bedroom around her still bathed in the color of night.

"What do you care? You get to sleep all day," she nipped at Clyde the cat, who stretched with a disapproving squeak at his body's compelled shift.

Kate roused the muscles of her legs with a flex, and a pile of papers crinkled at her feet. She'd taken a case to bed with her again-sadly, a more satisfying partner than any man in recent memory-and its files remained scattered about the end of the bed. _Buy a desk_ was still number one on her new apartment to-do list. She'd been there four months.

Rubbing the sting from her eyes, she switched on the light, her focus landing with disdain on the treadmill in the corner. She engaged in battle with the machine every morning, cursed it for its existence, berated it for robbing her of thirty valuable minutes of sleep, and every morning she surrendered to its _You'll thank me later for these three miles, Kate _pledge, smug though it was. To be honest, on most days, she was loath to admit it but it ended up being true.

She loved the law, loved her career. It required an absurd amount of time and energy, but she loved it. It challenged her, inspired her, excited and fulfilled her. Most important and closest to her heart, being a lawyer was a bond she shared with her mother, who was once a prosecutor and now a judge, and who never let Kate go one day without a reminder to live a life outside of it. She understood how consuming that chosen course could be, and the toll the sacrifices it often required could take. Those conversations didn't always go smoothly. Kate was just as stubborn as she.

A wisp of hair that'd eluded her elastic band's capture tickled her eyelashes as her feet pounded against the treadmill's belt. She read as she ran, none of the pleasure books she habitually bought yet made no time for, but rather notes for her morning meeting with the attorney representing James Sullivan, the current husband of her newest client, Claire Sullivan. She'd been recommended to Kate via Kate's father, a longtime friend of Claire's parents.

Claire and James's marriage had apparently been a tumultuous one from the beginning, kicking straight off on the wrong foot with a rather soap opera-esque row in front of the hundreds of guests in attendance at their wedding reception-a forewarning from the universe, if ever there was one. Unlike her soon-to-be ex, Claire hadn't entered the union riding a wave of millions in family money. But, she sure as hell wanted to ride her share out of it.

"Why can't all men be as good as you, huh?" she huffed to Clyde when he jumped off the bed and gifted her an adoring glance before wandering off. "Yeah, impossible, I know."

**xxxx**

It was 9:07 a.m., and she was late. Kate Beckett hated being late, especially absent a worthy excuse for it. She approached the door to the firm at a definitive jog, impressive enough that she'd scaled five flights of stairs with little physical aftereffect, even more so that she'd chosen her four-inch Louboutins-the sort of material splurge she didn't often allow herself-in which to do it.

Regardless of the hour, and as she did each morning, she paused to take in the polished gold of the Katherine Beckett _Family_ _Attorney at Law_ nameplate that greeted her, to give thanks, to recognize and appreciate it. Three years later and she still felt it every time she looked at it, the thrill of the achievement, of what she'd dreamed of for so long.

The door suddenly flew open in front of her with a whoosh, Kate's fingers already outstretched for the handle. "Where have you been?" asked the flustered young woman standing beyond the threshold. "You choose today of all days to be late?"

Morgan had been with Kate since the firm's opening. Without her, Kate would be utterly lost, and both of them knew it. Morgan pulled her into the office with greater force than her petite frame suggested she should possess and Kate stumbled, her bag and her bottle of veggie-blended juice both ending up on the carpet.

"Yes, Morgan, I _chose_ to be late," she replied with sarcasm as subtle as the summer sun. "I always enjoy finding ways to add even more stress to my life." She bent to retrieve her belongings, but was waived off. "Thank you. Traffic on 95 was a total bitch this morning," she snarled in explanation, though hardly a defense. When was it not?

"Okay, I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you this before you decide to hear me, but you really need to find yourself a man to screw you silly in the mornings, because that treadmill of yours is doing absolutely zero for you. I swear to God, Kate, traffic or not, you're always wound as tight as a spring."

Morgan eyed the juice, handed it over with the sneer she felt anything that healthy deserved, and nudged Kate in the back toward her office.

"Do assistants always talk to their bosses this way or am I just lucky?" The pair had grown the closest of friends, so the offense was merely an act. "He's coming at 9:30 a.m., right?" she asked, settling into her chair, her morning coffee already waiting for her.

"You're nervous to meet him." The corners of Morgan's lips curled in celebration of an appraisal she deemed astute. "I drove past another one of his billboards this morning. He's hot, and from everything I've read about him, he likes screwing people. Usually it's in court, but maybe it spills over. You should ask him to help loosen you up."

Kate downed a sip of her latte. The moment called for caffeine over kale. "You're worse than my mother, you know that? And why would I be nervous, just because the guy has some billboards and a flashy smile? If he's anything like his reputation, I hope this'll be the first and last time I have to see the guy."

Morgan arched an eyebrow. "You're such a liar. This is me you're talking to. He's exactly your type with that hair and that jaw and that..." On Kate's expression, she cut her points of evidence short and turned with a snicker to go. "This is going to be so much fun," was the last thing Kate heard before the thump of her heart kicked up.

**xxxx**

She used the few minutes she had to read over her notes one more time, or pretend to, as the case was, because she couldn't seem to get beyond a sentence or two with any true focus. Morgan finally buzzed to alert his arrival at nearly twenty-five minutes beyond their arranged time, and though unquestionably hypocritical, since she'd done the very thing that morning, his tardiness nevertheless didn't sit well.

The two didn't travel in the same clientele circles, so Kate had never had occasion to meet Richard Castle, but she and everyone else damn sure knew of him. He made certain of that, and to an almost nauseating degree. One couldn't drive anywhere within a 50-mile radius without passing by one of his cheesy advertisements, or sit through an entire commercial break without hearing his voice and that awful tagline of his_. _Her eyes practically rolled just thinking about it.

And it really pissed her off, but Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. She wouldn't grant her the satisfaction of admitting it, but there was something about his face that did whet Kate's appetite. Even the used-car-salesman smile he wore to try and rope clients into his _Don't want a hassle, call Richard Castle_ nonsense wasn't enough to quash that.

It was his eyes. He had kind eyes, she thought. Kind eyes couldn't be faked.

"Mr. Castle," she greeted him with a handshake and an enthusiasm bordering on suspicious. "Thank you for coming in this morning. I'm Katherine Beckett." All at once, her throat began to parch like it was being stuffed with cotton. In her stilettos, her eyeline virtually equaled that of the King of Billboards, and despite her myriad of preconceived notions, something about him had her inexplicably spellbound.

"Can I get you some coffee or water to drink?" Morgan asked, insinuating herself into Kate's notable hesitation. When he declined, she kept on in the lead. "I'll just show you into the conference room then. Follow me." She slid her eyes to Kate, and along with her words shot an unambiguous look. "That thing I needed signed I just put on your desk, if you could take care of that before you get started."

"Uh, yes, of course, the thing," Kate responded catching the pitch. "I'll take care of that and I'll be right with you, Mr. Castle."

Not thirty seconds later, Morgan scurried into Kate's office and immediately shut the door behind her, stood with her back pressed up against it.

"Holy shit, did you see him? He's even more beautiful in person. It's been a while, so it's hard to remember what it feels like when a man gives me one, but I think I might've actually had an orgasm."

Kate audibly puffed the air in her lungs out through her nose. "You can't be serious. We are not doing this right now. Or ever."

"Oh, do not even try to deny it. He made eye contact with you and you couldn't speak. What's going to happen when you're sitting across the table from him? Maybe I should be in there for the meeting, kick you under the table if you start doodling his name in little hearts on your legal pad."

"Shut up. Remember that raise you asked me for? Forget it. I'm going in there now and you are definitely not," Kate said and hipped her assistant aside to get to the door handle. "And, for chrissake, keep your orgasms out of my office."

**xxxx**

"I'm sorry about keeping you waiting, Mr. Castle," Kate told him but through a grit of her teeth. She dropped into the rolling chair across from her opposing counsel and his eyes of crystal blue, hooked her fingers around one of its armrests when it threatened to tip with her awkward landing. "It's been a morning," she said following an exhale of blended embarrassment and relief.

He sat there watching her in silence, with a grin absent teeth yet spilling over with amusement. "You're a very tall woman, Katherine Beckett," he commented finally. "Probably the tallest I've ever been up against."

Kate swallowed, cursed herself for forgetting to bring her coffee into the room with her because the cotton came roaring back with a vengeance-for that and for allowing her brain to take his plain observation for a prompt stroll down Salacious Street.

"It's just… It's the heels," she replied, kicking off a fruitless search for the pen it turned out she'd also left in her office.

He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Yes, I noticed them." He pushed the spare pen he'd plucked across the table toward her. "You should call me Rick. Don't steal that. I know where you work now."

"Thanks. I told you it's been a morning. I'm not usually this disordered." The shake of her head came screaming through in her voice. "I guess you should call me Kate, and I'll try to resist the urge," she quipped.

"Well, that doesn't sound like much fun, Kate, but we can talk about that over dinner. I've gone ahead and drawn up a list of items that reflects what my client is prepared to offer your client. There's a copy there for each of you. Discuss it, and get back to me if you have any objections."

It was like he'd hit Kate with a car and sped off.

…_talk about it over dinner_? She wasn't even sure he knew he'd said it.

"That won't be happening, Mr. Castle," she returned with a snigger for an exclamation point.

Rick flipped closed his leather portfolio and tapped it with a pleased fist. "Perfect, I love a divorce without any hassle." He pushed back from the table and popped up out of his chair.

_That goddamn tagline_, she thought.

"I meant dinner, and I assure you, my list of objections is considerable."

He extended his arm across the table, held flat his palm. "I don't think so," he said and waggled his fingers until she gave him back the pen. "In the meantime, maybe I could get your assistant's number. What was her name again?"

Flustered by the "Who's on first?" conversation she seemed to have found herself in, she blurted "You were late," and shoved the pen into his hand. "And her name is not interested."

Rick moved for the door, turned back and smiled that billboard smile. "It's been a pleasure, Kate. You really are incredibly tall. My private office number's there. I'll see myself out."

Kate sat there alone for a few minutes and gathered herself. He was even more obnoxious than she imagined he'd be, and she more aroused than she could possibly make sense of.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Kate could hear Morgan walking down the carpeted hallway toward the conference room, namely because her hummed rendition of the old "K-I-S-S-I-N-G" song kids sang on playgrounds and in school buses kept growing louder and louder-as though that was in any way amusing. She hurriedly grabbed up the paperwork Rick had left, pretended to be reading it when her unfunny assistant came through the door.

"He called me Maggie on his way out. I didn't correct him." She parked herself in the seat Rick had vacated. "I'm not sure what that makes me, but I'm also not sure I really care," she said, taking the chair for a twirl. "He also mentioned how gorgeous he thought you were, in case that interests you."

Kate's eyes shot up from her poor attempt at playing otherwise absorbed. "No, he didn't," she insisted, as if she'd taken offense rather than a jab of curiosity to a part of her body that wasn't an appropriate discussion piece for the office.

"See? I told you that you were full of shit." Morgan grinned like the Cheshire cat, relished in the self-determined victory of a game only she'd played. "No, he didn't, but you sure as hell wish he did."

The thing of it was, despite her beauty, her intelligence, her wit, and the laundry list of other attractive qualities she possessed, men and Kate, historically, had been a success story minus the success. There hadn't been many of them she'd found that she'd wanted, to be honest, and those she had, she'd usually ended up wishing she hadn't.

One long-term relationship was all that'd amounted to her romantic life since her years in law school, which was where she'd met him, taken a hasty dive into the deep end of the love pool without attention to posted warnings. She'd nearly married him, in fact, and every time she handled a divorce case for a client, she gave thanks she hadn't gone through with it. She could see herself so clearly having ended up just like them.

"Would you stop looking at me like that, please? I don't know why everyone's so damn interested in my love life."

Morgan snapped her tongue. "You're so dramatic sometimes. I swear you should be on _Law & Order_. Who's everyone, me and Lanie and your mom? We're interested because you don't seem to be, because we happen to think you're a fuckin' incredible woman and you didn't deserve what that piece of shit did to you, and because we want you to be happy with a man that doesn't have fur and four legs."

"Any woman would be lucky to have Clyde in her life," Kate jested, flashed a hint of a smile. "Look, I love you, okay, and I appreciate your… enthusiasm, I guess I'll call it, but I really don't need the mess of a man right now. I have too much going on here trying to keep this place up and running against the likes of Mr. Billboard, whom I would _never_ get involved with, by the way. The guy's a total creep. I told him I wouldn't go to dinner with him, and he turned around and asked me for your number."

"Did you give it to him?" Morgan asked hopefully, earning pursed lips of disapproval. "Just because you never make time for fun…" she mumbled and got up and left.

**xxxx**

Kate finally willed herself up and out of the conference room and back to her office, shaking off the blip in her morning that'd been Richard Castle. After going over the list of his client's proposed concessions-a list she found laughable, to say the least-she phoned Claire, assured her it was merely the beginning of the negotiation, and then set to work on her initial counter. Kate didn't let on, but she feared both women were in for a fight-for herself in more ways than one.

Morgan wandered in just after 2 p.m. with Kate's customary second coffee of the day in one hand and a basket with a bow tied around it in the other, set both on the corner of the desk.

"One's from me, one's from him-the him from this morning with the beautiful eyes," she told her conspicuously curious boss, desperate to tear into the latter herself. "Delivery service just dropped it off. I can't tell what it is."

"I guess it works out okay then, since the card has my name on it and not yours." When Morgan continued to stand there staring, Kate shooed her away. "You can go now, nosey. I don't tip people who give me unsolicited love advice."

Alone, she studied the basket with puzzlement yet a mark of recognition, the blue of the cellophane wrapped around it lighting up her mind with flashes of the kindred hue of Rick's eyes. What it could be, she had no clue. That he'd sent something to her at all-something personal, not professional-tickled the line of inappropriate, ill-timed surely, and had his intention been to set the ground rolling beneath her feet, the gesture had already achieved success.

She tipped back a sip of the coffee like she'd been poured a stiff one at happy hour, and went at the packaging with childlike abandon. Tiny wads of paper resembling snowballs were stuffed inside the basket by the dozens, each, as she discovered uncurling several, imprinted with the Richard Castle name in a font that, based upon her first impression, seemed to suit its bearer-privileged and pompous.

It wasn't until she dug in deep that she found what he'd buried, and on a day that felt like a hurricane blowing in her face, the amusement that instantly ousted annoyance was worth far more to her than anything he might've gifted.

He'd sent a pen, a nice pen, the type of pen she'd never buy for herself and probably one she'd never use, but she placed it right away because she'd held it just hours before, the first time he'd passed it to her. Setting it aside, she went back for the tiny envelope marked with her name-Kate, not Katherine, she noted.

"So I can put those worries about you having sticky fingers to bed, this one's for you. Use it to write up that list of objections of yours. I guarantee you'll never run out of ink. You have my number." He signed it using only his initials. She read it four times.

"Don't do it, Kate," she heard the angel on her shoulder whisper when she reached for her phone, so she eased her hand off. Its counterpart on her other shoulder remained silent, but unable to help but read his note a fifth time, she worried how long that would last.

**xxxx**

Richard Castle liked to surround himself with fine things, and that was something for which he never apologized. He spent the money he earned-a healthy sum given the success of his practice by way of the frequent nonsuccess of marriage-which, in his mind, was the very point of earning it. Denying oneself what one wanted was the practice of fools, he believed, and he would never be accused.

He strutted through the front door of his Greenwich condo that night like he'd lived the grandest day of his career, and for a man whose confidence was rarely subdued, even he noticed how thick with it the air around him was.

The place he came home to purred elegance, and in the silence its whisper could almost be heard, as if it was aware of just how impressive it was. It was pure, unblemished white, save for its ebonized floor and the few pops of color yielded by the artwork that adorned its walls, and it was appointed with every luxury a man such as he could ever hope to take for granted.

A drink was his first order of business-celebratory without warrant, which really was of no consequence to him-after sliding out of his navy Brioni, a new addition to his closet and, as of that day, a new favorite talisman. He poured a generous scotch and sipped it slowly, savoring it as both he and the 25-year deserved, and then moved to the sofa and the TV for a hit of news.

Not ten minutes later the door opened again, a redhead dressed in tracksuit of violet and ill-advised sneakers marching through, dabbing at her forehead with a towel.

"Mother," Rick said, swallowing the last of his Bowmore. "Pretending to work out again, I see. Which of the silver fox CEOs were you down there ogling this time?"

Martha had come to town for a visit four months prior and still hadn't left, nor shown any intention of doing so, but rather than fight what he knew would be losing battle, Rick chose to simply let things be, though he wasn't above dropping an occasional passive-aggressive crack on her about it. That'd long been the way of their relationship-the one he treasured above all others, truth be told.

"I was doing no such thing, thank you. These beads of sweat were rightfully earned." She stepped into the kitchen, filled a glass with water and cleared it.

"So none of them were there tonight then," he quipped.

Her shoulders slumped with the weight of her disappointment. "No," she confirmed and wandered his way. "You look like you've had a good day. What's that crinkling your eyes, the euphoria of another crushing defeat? You're going to end up needing the needles of a good plastic surgeon if you keep racking those up."

"I'm sure you'll be there ready with recommendations when I do, Mother. And I did have a good day. I fell in love today."

Martha rolled her eyes, and through no conscious effort. How many times she'd heard her son say those words. How many times love had actually turned out to be lust, ironically the sort that never even seemed to last as long as the TV spots he put out for his I-can-help-you-dissolve-your-union services.

"I'm sure you did, darling. It's Thursday, after all." She came around and sat on the cushion beside his. "What's this one's name and is she old enough to order one of those?" she asked with a nod to his glass.

"Yes, she is," he grumbled, "and her name is Katherine-Kate. I had a case meeting at her office this morning. She's Claire Sullivan's attorney."

"As in James Sullivan's wife?" She was familiar with James from Rick's days at school, which they'd attended at the same time for a couple of years. "Well, that must be some sort of conflict of interest, no?"

Rick leaned back, let his head come to rest against the wall. "That doesn't matter right now. She thinks she hates me." The tiny lines at the corners of his eyes reappeared. "She doesn't."

Martha stood up again after a moment of observation. "My muscles are screaming. I need a long bath and a tall glass of wine," she told him with a tap to the cheek. "This is a familiar road you're driving, darling, and there are a lot of potholes in it. Be sure you buckle up, huh?"

She never could bear to see him hurt. He already had a divorce under his belt, and a not pretty one at that, to say nothing of the string of failures that preceded and followed it, and she often felt guilt nip at her heart. She'd raised him alone, hadn't provided a model of a successful relationship for him to emulate, and the weight of that decision-active or passive-wasn't insubstantial.

"Come on. What fun would that be, Mother?" he replied and sent her off.

**xxxx**

"Are you keeping track of all the men you've said no to, because I lost count a long time ago," Lanie carped. "What's wrong with you? That man is fine. So what if he has a few cheesy ads? He makes a living just like you, doesn't he?"

Her best friend was never one to mince words. She'd never known or loved anyone as outspoken.

Kate extinguished the light beside her bed, gave Clyde a rub between the ears. "Shut up, Lanie. There's nothing wrong with me. Besides, he didn't really even ask. He assumed. It was obnoxious, and I'd only known him for two minutes."

"Love has struck in less time than that, Kate. If nothing else, you could use the practice, you know, in case you actually ever do have a first date again." She went on when nothing came. "Whatever, at least tell me he's as sexy in person as he is on TV. Give a girl that much."

Kate thought of that first moment in reception when they met, how his eyes had her transfixed to the point of being tongue-tied, and her skin flared with heat beneath the sheets. "He wasn't unattractive, I guess, at least not until he opened his mouth."

Lanie blasted Kate's ear with a huff. "You suck at this game, you know that? Go ahead and go to bed _alone_. Call me tomorrow," she said and hung up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A few days passed before Kate finally picked up the phone to reach out to Rick about their mutual case, and the delay hadn't been unintentional. Though due mainly to thorough consideration of Claire Sullivan and what served her best, she couldn't deny there'd been something more behind it, something more that still had her ruffled.

She recognized what was happening. She'd been in that place before, but it struck her more powerful now, and its hold far more robust. That familiar swirl of butterflies, that buzz of attraction that pierced like an invisible arrow; she'd welcomed its impact once, only to be left with a wound and a tender scar. She'd learned. She knew better, yet temptation seemed bound and determined to steer her.

In some silly attempt to impress-despite his already having visited her humble firm-rather than reach out directly, Kate asked Morgan to call his office that morning and connect them.

"Are you wearing those heels today?" were the first words he said to her-no greeting, nothing. "On second thought, don't tell me. Let me keep imagining I'm right."

"I bet you imagine you're right a lot," Kate volleyed like a pro. "No one ever said having dreams was a bad thing." She heard him push out a breath of a laugh. "I'm calling about the list you and Mr. Sullivan drew up. Do you have time to discuss it now, Mr. Castle?"

"I told you, it's Rick, and I've been anxiously awaiting your call, tall, tall Kate Beckett. My time is all yours." He angled his chair back, kicked his feet up on his desk. "Hang on, let me find a pen," he added humorously.

It hooked the corners of her mouth, but she let the rib go by. "So, I'll start with item-"

"You got my present, I assume," he interjected. Kate looked down, saw her fingers wrapped around the pen he'd sent-the one she'd said she'd never use-and dropped it like it spontaneously caught fire. "Just a little joke between new colleagues. I'm fun like that."

"Yes, I got it, thank you. I prefer a ballpoint." She knew how to be fun, too, when she allowed herself to be. "Can we get on with it? I have someone coming in for a meeting." That was a lie. There was no someone, nor a meeting. There was only Kate trying to hold herself to as little contact with him as possible. "I showed this proposal to Mrs. Sullivan, and her response included words I'm not comfortable repeating, so Mr. Sullivan is going to have to do better-a lot better."

Rick would've expected such a response from any divorce attorney worth a damn, but was particularly pleased that it came from her. More work to be done only meant more contact and more opportunity to put himself in her path.

"Don't let this cloud your opinion of me as a gentleman, but those are usually some of my favorite words. Why don't we start going through this thing and we'll take a rain check on the rest when your appointment shows up."

She unconsciously picked up the pen again, and got down to business.

**xxxx**

"Your badge came in for the CLC," Morgan told Kate, sliding it across her desk with the included schedule of the day's events. She didn't routinely attend the annual legal conference in Hartford, but a fellow specialist and friend who was set to give a seminar had reached out and encouraged her to join in, so she'd acquiesced and bought a pass. "Did you decide whether or not you want me to book you a room up there for the night? I'm sure I can still get one."

"Shit. I forgot all about this. No, it's fine. It's on Friday anyway, right? If I can sleep in, it doesn't matter what time I get home."

Morgan let out a burst of laughter and sat. "Sure and when was the last time you weren't on the treadmill before dawn, even on a weekend? I bet you see the moon more than some astronauts." Kate looked up at her beneath her lashes. "So, how'd the call go earlier?"

"The call went fine, Morgan. Why wouldn't it have? It was a legal call… about legal things."

"That's a pretty powerful argument there, Counselor," Morgan mocked. "You know, I could probably find out if he's going to the conference, too, if you want. Maybe the two of you can carpool. You do have that whole rah-rah environment thing you like to do."

"I'll tell you what." Kate thrust two stacks of papers at her. "How about you get these billings ready, proofread all of those, and leave me alone about Rick, okay?"

Her assistant accepted the tasks with a smile, not because she took pleasure in them, but because a window had inadvertently been opened.

"It's Rick now, huh?" she asked climbing through it, and with Kate's grimace dashed off.

**xxxx**

Kate blinked deliberately once and then again, pushed back against her chair in Ballroom A when she realized he wasn't, in fact, a mirage. Rick was actually there, at the same conference she rarely attended, in the same seminar, in the row right in front of hers.

She stayed in her seat, let her fellow attendees gather up their belongings at the hour's conclusion, and quietly hoped he wouldn't notice her. That wasn't because she didn't think she could manage to engage in a polite and professional exchange, but rather because he looked so goddamn good in his suit, and there wasn't any way in hell he didn't know it.

With her friend-and the seminar's guide-already surrounded by a group of guests, there was nothing for Kate to do but wait, and it took all of half a minute for that wait to be hijacked by the universe and its cruel sense of humor.

"Well, well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," Rick said, propping a knee up on the chair across from her. "It's nice to see your face again, Counselor, after all these fun phone chats of ours this week. It's even lovelier than I remembered, though it doesn't seem terribly happy to see mine."

They'd spoken several times over the previous days, gone back and forth and around in circles about the terms of their shared case, made some progress she supposed.

"I'm not anything about yours," she replied with a something of a defensive snarl. "What are you doing here?" Upon immediate reflection, she wondered if she'd ever asked a dumber question.

Rick gave the room a cursory scan. "This is the legal conference, right, and I am a lawyer. Why shouldn't I be here?"

"I didn't-You can be wherever you want."

His eyes were impossibly bright, unflinching, and she followed them as they examined her without apology. She'd never felt more thankful to have a chair beneath her.

"The jury might still be out on that, but I'm optimistic about the verdict. Did you enjoy it?" When she fumbled, he clarified. "The seminar, I'm talking about. Honestly, I was bored to tears. Maybe if I'd paid attention," he shrugged.

Kate's forehead crinkled. "That's really nice. If you weren't going to pay attention, why did you even come?"

"To see you," he answered plainly. "Yeah, I know, I said it was a surprise. I lied. I called your office and asked Molly if you were going to be here. She told me you were, so that's why I came."

_Fuck_ was the only word her brain delivered. Luckily she managed to stop it before her mouth followed suit.

"First of all, her name is Morgan-not Maggie, not Molly. It's not that difficult. Second of all, why would you even do that? You don't even know me."

Rick grinned that same grin she could always somehow hear in his voice. "Come have a drink with me next door. I'm staying at the hotel for the night, in case I decide to have more than one. Safety first."

"Rick, I'm not going to have a drink with you. I can't."

A set of the ballroom's lights went dark, and the crowd that'd been lingering in small talk had all but dispersed.

"We're going to get locked in here if we don't go. Come on, we can argue more about it on the way. I want to hear you call me Rick some more." He pushed up, reached out and offered her a hand, which she didn't take. "I'm not going to kidnap you, Counselor. My face is plastered all over the state. I'd never get away with it. It's Friday night. You can have one drink with me."

Kate could practically feel the thin ice she was treading on cracking beneath her feet, but, fuck, the way her body was reacting to him, it wanted to agree to anything and everything that came out of his mouth.

"Fine, I'll have _a_ drink, but then I need to go."

She needed to go so she could find Morgan and wring her neck.

**xxxx**

It was still early enough that they didn't have to fight a crowd at the hotel bar, yet late enough at the end of a taxing week that neither beer nor wine seemed enough to dull its edge. Stirred by Kate's hankering for bourbon, Rick ordered the same, put both on his room over her objection, but assured her she could pick up the next round, which he set his aim on bringing to fruition before he even took his first sip.

"For a lawyer, you don't say a lot," he remarked from the high chair beside hers. "You think a lot, though. You're like a cat-quiet but ready to pounce." He picked up his glass and gave it a swirl. "It upsets you that I came here for you."

The wetness of his lips was the first thing Kate's focus landed on when she turned, and she rebuked herself for taking pleasure in it.

"I'm not upset. I told you I didn't care."

"I know you did. I didn't believe you. Reading people makes me the exceptional attorney I am."

Kate snickered and swallowed, and the ethanol stung almost as much as his insight. "Is that what you are? You know what they say about the one who shouts the loudest…"

"I guess turning things around makes you the exceptional attorney you are. Okay then, if you aren't upset, Kate Beckett, what are you?"

"Besides annoyed that you keep telling me what I am?"

He grabbed the back of her chair and spun it until they were facing one another, their knees kissing in the middle, his arm pinning her between it and the bar.

"I could tell you a lot more, but it might take a couple more shots of that for you to be ready to hear it."

Her belly was warm from the alcohol, and the rest of her positively tropical thanks to his proximity, his intensity, and before she knew it, she'd summoned the bartender and ordered them each another.

Kate nudged his arm away with her elbow. "I don't have time for games," she told him, despite playing right along with his. "You know my client deserves a hell of a lot more than that BS yours is offering. She wants to be done with all of this." Work would save her, she foolishly thought.

Rick slowly angled for her ear, tickled her hair with his breath. "Our clients aren't here right now. It's just us. What do _you_ want?"

Her fingers curled around the second glass and her knuckles whitened. Christ, she knew nothing about this man except that he'd affected her like no other, and that he'd drawn her so far outside of her zone of comfort that she might as well be on Mars. And she fucking liked it.

"I don't want to tell you that," she said as he pulled back and met her eye.

He nodded once and kicked back his drink, motioned to the bartender in request of the tab. "If I was interested in what you didn't want, I would've asked you that. I asked you what you did want."

Kate couldn't gather the words to speak because she was too busy trying to convince herself she wasn't about to do what she was about to do. He scribbled his name on the check and slid her a look, and with it she absolutely couldn't take it for one more second.

Seizing him by the high-priced lapels of his jacket, she tugged until her mouth collided with his, hungry and deep, and he matched her every stroke, both unfazed by all the sets of eyes in the room they'd attracted.

"I appreciate your honesty," he panted when she finally let him go, which, incidentally, she found no easy feat. "Let's get out of here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Indifferent though they'd seemed, apparently even the hunched, silver-haired couple that'd shared the hotel's elevator to the 9th floor with the pair had sensed the crackle of anticipation in the air, the man looking back at them upon his exit and offering his endorsement in the form of a wink before shuffling off with his beloved.

At his room near the end of the hallway, Rick pulled out his keycard, paused in silent wait of Kate's consent to use it, to usher her inside to his bed where he was desperate to have her. She maneuvered her body between his and the door, let her eyes float the trail between his and his parted lips, back and forth, as if revving up for what was to come, before eventually delivering the blessing that sent both of their pulses off to the races.

"Open it," she said, and as he thrust the card into the lock, his mouth met hers in a swirl of exhilaration and relief.

They pushed their way inside, Kate tiptoeing backward with the aid of Rick's embrace, until the door clicked shut behind them and they were engulfed in blackness.

"Let me just find a… _Shit_, I don't know where any of the switches are," he said.

Kate threw an arm out and hit a wall, fanned her palm wildly and came up lucky. "Here. I got one." The lamp in the corner illuminated and they looked at one another, shared a chuckle. "Thank God. Now I can see the minibar," she teased, though another shot of liquid courage certainly wouldn't have hurt, given the edge of the cliff on which she most unexpectedly found herself.

"I'm not against cracking that baby open if that's what you want, but you don't have to get me drunk, you know. Do you want to sit?"

She did, and the image of where that tickled her mind had her blushing.

The closest thing to her was the bed. She perched herself along its edge and tossed her purse aside. "I know I don't. And you don't have to stand over there." When all that moved was his gaze over her, the distance between them suddenly felt like torture, and that struck her incredible, as incredible as her desire for this man she barely knew. "Now you're the one not saying a lot," she said into the hush that'd fallen over them, doing as he'd earlier observed: trying to turn things around.

"It floors me how beautiful you are. It fucking knocks me over." It was the most earnest truth he'd ever uttered, and from her expression nothing she expected. "I don't think I even knew what beautiful was until I saw you." He angled back against the wall, kicked one ankle across the other. "You don't believe me."

Kate plowed her fingers through her loose hair. "I don't know what to believe. I don't believe myself." She dipped her chin before going on because it was impossible to think with him looking at her the way he was. "Rick, this isn't me at all. I'm not an impulsive person. This is not the kind of thing I do."

"Thing?"

"Yes, okay, this. I don't do this. I don't just go to hotel rooms with strange men and…" She broke off mid-thought.

"I'm not that strange, but what was the rest of it? Tell me what you stopped yourself from saying."

"And fuck them just because I want to," she snapped, and shocked herself with the admission.

That was one he hadn't expected, and he allowed her a moment, because the truth was he needed it just as much as she did.

"Look, I won't pretend hearing that doesn't make me even more nuts for you than I already am, but I have no intention of taking something from you that you aren't ready to give. That isn't _me_. Believe me when I tell you, Kate, that you're the one in control here. Whatever does or doesn't happen in this room tonight is entirely up to you."

She did believe him. Without anything to go on but her instincts, she did, and his willingness to yield the power to her made her instantly warm and wet, as though he'd already been where she ached to welcome him.

Kate got up off the bed and walked over to where Rick stood, and the heat born of their proximity radiated like the sun. It was no longer a matter of if, but of when, but of how long she would draw out the release of all the energy that'd built up so quickly, and the answer came just as fast.

Her fingers caressed the hand-tailored wool of his suit jacket, admired every stitch along their path toward execution of its dispatch to the carpet below.

"That's Italian," Rick informed of no genuine care or consequence.

"That's in the way," Kate replied making short work of his shirt's buttons. "You smell good." It slipped out in a sigh, like she'd only just discovered it with the hint of skin she'd unveiled instead of knowing all along. She pressed her lips to his chest and her tongue swiped a sample of his taste. "We're on opposite sides of this case. We shouldn't be doing this," she told him, the hard and fast kiss that followed disaffirming her objection.

"I know." Though he agreed, his fingers continued to fiddle with the fastening of her skirt.

"I don't care," followed in unison and they fumbled toward the bed, all hands and mouths and clumsiness.

In no time, they had one another nearly bare in the middle of the king size. The solitary bulb in the corner, while moody in its insufficiency, would've been a beacon for prying eyes in the night had Rick not jumped up to pull the curtain, crawling back onto the bed and between Kate's legs where he set his sights on the one barrier that stood between them.

"How did you get these?" he asked, laying a fingertip on her belly and tracing a band of her muscle.

"Why?" His captivation inspired a selfish need to know. "The answer is boring."

Rick hooked her at the hips and drew her nearer, let his lips explore the spot where the contour faded just above the line of her panties. "Because I want to know everything, that's why. I want to know what you do to your body, so I can imagine it when I'm not with you."

If he only knew what she'd already done to her body with her mind's images of him.

She'd show him if he asked.

"I run." Her voice weakened when he inched aside the blue lace and she felt the heat of his breath. "It's the first thing I do every morning."

He loved the tease, but with her he couldn't help himself. He couldn't wait. He had to have more, knew she did, too. Pushing back onto his knees, he freed them both from constraint with a single tug.

"What happens tomorrow, once I convince you to stay the night with me?" He slid back into position, Kate's leg falling open and granting him access. "All you have is heels," he said and grazed her with his thumb, straightaway returned with more. "I'm not going to let you run in those. That could be very dangerous. I guess we'll just have to think of another way for you to get your morning exercise."

When he let his tongue take over, her body bucked from the jolt of pleasure. It'd been so long since she'd experienced a sensation that overwhelming, and the instant it charged through her, she prayed it could last forever.

"Fuck. Rick." She clutched his arm when it crept for her breast, a handful of the bed's comforter choked in her other fist. "You're going to make..." With a velvet touch, he continued his slow and steady course, even as her hips began to roll in waves and her fingernails dug into his skin.

With his mouth clasped around her, Rick purred in plea for the realization of her prophecy, and rode the throb of her release when she allowed it to take her. With his body harder and hungrier for hers than it'd ever been for another, he wanted to climb her. He wanted to dive into the pool she'd filled, and when he heard his name trickle from her lips, he came for her.

"I hope you didn't mind. I had to know. You do taste as incredible as you look," he said and kissed her lips with his testimony.

Kate realized as she stared into his eyes that kind wasn't word enough. All the things she hadn't imagined he'd be were alive in the depths of their oceans. She could see it all. Everything that frightened her, excited her, unsettled and enchanted her was all right there, and he wasn't keeping any of it hidden from her.

She might've thought it all a dream, but the weight of him between her thighs and the burn of her need for him to fill her were not the fleeting stirs of fantasy. And that's what it had indeed become, a need. They were alive in that room together, in that bed, in that moment impossible in the making yet somehow perfect in its construction, and she was allowing herself to surrender to it.

The generosity of the mattress beneath them and the muscle he'd mooned over combined forces and enabled her to roll Rick onto his back, renegotiating their position so she was all at once straddling him. Her fingers clamped around his wrists like cuffs, pinned them against the pillow above his head.

"Why do you have all those goddamned billboards?" she asked as her slick painted on his skin with the subtle shifts of her hips.

"Well, Counselor, your question also happens to be the answer. People notice them." He grinned, and not because of the oddity of her timing or her wonder. "You liked what I just did to you." Her fingers twitched and every last drop of his blood that wasn't already there traveled south. "Want me to do it again?"

Kate leaned in and kissed the smile from his lips, released one of his wrists and sent her hand below to find him. "No." When she guided him inside her, the resonance of his moan rocked her senses and slammed her eyelids shut. "That's what I want," she confessed in a whisper as mighty as a scream.

** xxxx **

"I looked you up on the internet," Rick said as he lay perched on his elbow beside her and traced invisible curlicues on her bare back in the afterglow of their fuck session, which was exactly what it'd been, at least in its physicality-raw and fiery. "I couldn't find much."

Kate rotated her head and her hair fanned out across the pillow. "Yeah, well, the spotlight might not be the sun, but that doesn't mean you can't get burned by it." Every inch of her hummed from where he'd been, what he'd done. "Don't stop," she told him when his fingertips halted their tour without notice.

"Sorry." He trailed his lips over the curve of her shoulder in supplemental apology. "Did you try to find out about me?"

She could only fib. He deserved it for expecting he already knew the answer.

"I wasn't that interested."

"Really, and do you make a habit of doing what you just did to me to men you don't have interest in?" Kate giggled into the pillow and turned back a fair shade of pink. "I wish you could see how sexy you look right now. It's fucking unreal. How about you and me never leave this place?" It was the hotel he was alluding to, but behind it much more.

"I have to. Who'd take care of Clyde?"

"Goldfish?"

"Cat, and the best man I know."

"Ouch," Rick groaned. "Is this a challenge open to new competitors? I mean, I feel like two mind-blowing orgasms in the first at bat should earn me a spot in the race, at least."

She picked her head up, narrowed her eyes, and dropped back down again. "Aren't lawyers supposed to be good at keeping track of details? At keeping facts straight?"

"What's that supposed to mean? You were there. Did I not offer truthful evidence to support my case?"

Kate rolled onto her side, her long, naked body exposed. He curled a hand around her cheek and delivered the kiss her eyes solicited on her words' behalf.

"I guess I could consider your motion and maybe reopen the case," she jested. "But it was definitely three."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"I'm sorry, but did you not say to me just yesterday 'Why don't you come over to my place at 10 a.m. for breakfast?' because you were trying to make up for being nothing but a ghost lately?"

Lanie shoved her phone in Kate's face-the phone that clearly displayed a time of 10:47 a.m.-and waited for an explanation as to why she'd been sitting in her car out front for nearly an hour, and why her hostess wasn't even home for a date she, herself, had suggested.

"I'm sorry, Lain, I know." Kate closed the car door with a slam, having unleashed upon it all the frustration her drive home from Hartford had provoked. "I should've called. I thought I'd be back by now."

The naturally inquisitive court clerk gave her friend a more deliberate scan. "Now, I will admit I have seen many a crazy outfit walking around the gym, but yours would definitely take the impractical cake. I also don't see any damn eggs in your hand, and there isn't a law book in sight, so you better spill and it better be good."

Kate moved off for her townhouse's front door with Lanie in her shadow. "Can we just get inside first, please?" she said in a hushed tone, as though anyone was around to notice or care that she was still wearing the same outfit she'd had on when she'd left the morning before.

She unlocked the door, walked directly up the stairs to the main level and into the kitchen, where she filled a glass from the cupboard with water and chugged it dry. She had a secret-a naughty, delicious, not-at-all-Kate secret-and it had her feeling like an over-filled balloon ready to pop.

"Okay, you're starting to freak me out," Lanie remarked, because in all the time she'd known Kate, she'd never seen her quite so jumpy. "Why are you smiling like that? You're like the female version of the Joker over there or something."

"I didn't sleep here last night," she revealed but gave no more.

Lanie slid out one of the stools from beneath the edge of the island, dropped her bag on the counter, and sat. "Yeah, I pretty much pieced that together that from the weird wardrobe plus the no car in the driveway. I know you've spent nights at the office before-like a crazy person, I might add-but the way you're acting, this wasn't some campout on your desk. Keep talkin'."

"I slept with Rick." All she got back was a blank stare. "Rick Castle. _Richard_ Castle."

"Hear me when I say I know exactly what time it is and I do not care. Tell me you have some booze sitting in that fridge." When Kate turned to check, she caught an earful. "Oh no, you do not take one step. You did what now with whom?"

Kate's tongue swept across her lips and she swore she could still taste him. "We ended up at the same legal conference yesterday. He cornered me afterward and asked me to have a drink with him at the hotel bar, and the next thing I knew we were upstairs in his room rolling around naked. There was a lot of rolling, Lanie."

"First, it sounds like I need to spend some time at that bar. Second, who are you and what have you done with Katherine Beckett? You're telling me you did the nasty with the billboard guy at some hotel somewhere?" Kate only grinned. "Well, forget being pissed you were late. Now I'm disappointed you're here at all. Was it good nasty? I better hear a yes because that man is too fine and I will never be able to drive on the thruway the same way otherwise."

Kate leaned over the island, propped her chin on a fist. "It was beyond good, Lanie. I swear, a thousand things about him drive me nuts, but he made me orgasm like a Meg Ryan movie, and suddenly none of them mattered. I still have no idea how it all happened."

"I think this might be my favorite you ever. Girl, I was beginning to wonder if you even remembered what an orgasm was." She got up and went over to the fridge herself. "Hope there's some food in here to wash down the booze, Meg," she said humorously. "Then I want to hear every single detail."

**xxxx**

After Lanie left, Kate did something she rarely did: Sleep. A lot.

She woke that grey afternoon in her second bed of the day, and a smile crept through the cobwebs and across her face because of it. _What happens now?_ she thought and heard Clyde squeak in the endearing way he sometimes did, because it seemed she'd actually vocalized the abstraction and roused him from his tandem slumber.

"Sorry, buddy," she said and stretched her legs straight like an arrow, her muscles groaning for a reason other than the infernal machine in the corner of her room, for a change. No. Rick had done that. Rick had left his mark on her body. Even more, he'd left his mark on her mind, and what in the hell she was supposed to do with that was something she had to figure out.

Three messages hit her phone while she was asleep. She played back her mother's first, a reminder that dinner was at 6 p.m. and that she had to stop and pick up salad on the way. The second was from her favorite local shop to inform her that the items she'd ordered were ready to be picked up. That one pleased her. Lastly there was one from Rick-_R_ as she'd just that morning keyed him into her list of private contacts, the list that had nothing to do with work.

"If I wear that pocket square you left for me to the office," he'd said, "I can only imagine the looks I'll get." Then his voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Sexy isn't even in the ballpark, and I've been trying to get some work done from home, but all I can think about is what the inside of your thigh tastes like. I'm around," is how he'd left it, and Kate went right back to the beginning to listen again, wishing he was.

**xxxx**

"Really, Katie, what's going on with you tonight?" Johanna Beckett asked her daughter mid-pour.

The wine was open and Kate was thankful.

Absent a significant other or any offers for dates she'd found appealing enough to entertain, most of her recent Saturday nights had been spent at the home of her parents, where they hosted dinner each week for a group of their close friends. Her entire life with Jim and Johanna had been blessed with love and laughter, and she considered herself lucky that she could still always count on them for both. Unfortunately there was another thing she could always count on. They never let anything drop.

"I told you nothing's going on, Mom. How many times are you going to ask?" Kate sipped her cabernet like a lady, but had a burning desire to snatch the bottle and chug. "Do you ask Dad this many questions when I'm not around for you to attack?"

"Pardon me, but I'm hardly attacking you. You're my daughter, and there's something… off. You may not think you are, but I'm telling you, you're being weird."

What she was, actually, was adrift in the memory wake of being properly screwed in a Marriott. Her parents preferred Hilton. Yet one more reason she wasn't about to open her mouth and tell them a thing about Rick.

"Just stop, Mom, okay? I'm just sitting here eating cheese and crackers, the same way I do every week. When's dinner, by the way? I'm starving."

She'd barely touched her breakfast with Lanie. Probably because she'd had to cobble it together from two-week-old bread, a grapefruit that looked like the face most people made when they ate grapefruit, and some plain yogurt. As if she hadn't already been in the doghouse with her before that horrifying spread.

"I'm pulling it out of the oven in a few minutes. Jim, come grab these plates, please," Johanna called across the room, and her husband came scurrying right over. "These go out on the table. They're for the salad."

There was a tone-a definite tone.

"Okay, Mom, I get it. I bought the wrong salad." Kate stuffed her mouth with a cracker so she couldn't dig herself deeper. Somehow, she'd managed to make it to age thirty-six without the knowledge that there was such a thing as erroneous lettuce.

Jim leaned over and pecked his daughter on the top of the head. "You aren't smiling, Katie. Come on. Tell your old dad what's going on."

Kate adored her father. He was as harmless as a bag of cotton balls, and he always treated her like a princess, even when she didn't deserve it.

"What is this, some one-two punch you guys cooked up while I was in the bathroom?" she asked eyeing them both. "Do I have to be smiling all the time? Can't I just be hungry or tired or nothing at all?"

Jim shrugged and gathered up the plates, gave Kate a little nudge with his elbow. "You can be anything you want, Katie," he said sweetly, like she was twelve again and had just told him of her dream of flying to the moon. "I love you no matter what. I just love you a little more when you're smiling."

He wandered off and Kate watched him with tender eyes. "How did you know Dad was the right man, Mom?" It occurred to her she'd never asked, though, in all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for the answer. It terrified her she might hear something she understood.

"Okay, this is you not being weird? Where is that coming from? Oh my god! Are you seeing someone? Tell me you're seeing someone."

Kate could practically see her turning blue in the face from not taking a breath. "Relax, it was just a question. It popped into my head and I asked."

Johanna pursed her lips in motherly disappointment and tipped back her wine. "Maybe if you left that office of yours every once in a while, you might actually meet someone."

Only Kate knew how funny it was that she hadn't actually had to.

"Thanks for the advice, Mom. My guess is someone doesn't become a judge by leaving the office a whole lot."

"Now you're just being a smart-ass." She looked out and found Jim among their friends, smiled. "The thing of it is, Katie, falling in love isn't something you can negotiate, and you can't always control the hows or whys of it. I know you hate that because that's what you've built your life around, but sometimes love just is. Your father was that for me-not one particular thing, not one magic moment. Thankfully, I was open to it."

She felt like crying, but instead got up and wrapped her arms around her mother. "I love you. I need to go make a call before dinner. I'll be right back."

"Don't be long," Johanna admonished. "And it's Saturday night. That better not be work."

Kate stepped out the front door and onto the porch. She played Rick's message again, flashed warm remembering the not-at-all-Kate thing she'd done, and hit the button to dial his number.

"Business or pleasure, Counselor?" he said and she was right back in that hotel room.

"I've been wondering since I listened to your message. What does the inside of my thigh taste like?"

Rick cleared his throat. "Got it. Business." Kate guffawed. "What're you doing? Did you get some sleep?"

She dropped into one of the wicker chairs and put her feet up on the railing. "I did, yeah. After breakfast with Lanie, I pretty much fell into bed and crashed. I'm just over having dinner at my parents' now."

"That's sad."

"No, it isn't. I like my parents."

"Touchy, touchy," he chaffed. "I meant it's sad that you're otherwise engaged tonight so I won't be able to see you. I knew I should never have let you leave that hotel room. Then you'd be all mine forever."

Kate nearly choked on the gulp of air she inhaled.

"Oh, sorry, I'm sorry. How, um, how did yours? Jesus," she muttered. "How _was_ yours?" Recovery was slow going.

"It did fine," he replied wearing a smirk. "I did a little of this and a whole lot of thinking about you. You leave quite an impression, Attorney Blue Lace. Tell me, how's a man supposed to take such a token, as a parting gift or a promise?"

She'd tucked the panties he'd peeled off of her into the pocket of his Italian suit jacket while he was getting cleaned up in the bathroom that morning, and while the impulse had her stunned, the titillation of it still had a hold on her all those hours later.

"I'm not sure yet," she said, and in some moments that was true. In others it wasn't.

"Yes, you do." A conspicuous lull fell over them. "To answer your earlier question, it tastes like honey and trouble."

Kate heard the front door open and turned, found Johanna poking her head out and waving her inside.

"I have to go."

"Enjoy your dinner," Rick told her and failed at not sounding disappointed.

She hung up, but made it only as far as the door before texting him her townhouse's address and letting him know she'd be home in a couple of hours. Trouble, it seemed, was a thing she couldn't stop herself from steering directly into.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Kate spotted it just as she pulled into the lot at the complex, Rick's car already parked out in front of her townhouse, and she caught herself in a smile over it. He hadn't ever acknowledged her implied invitation to come over that night, but she'd spent all of dinner and dessert percolating with hope that he'd show up in spite of it. And now there he was.

They simultaneously climbed from their cars, shared a charged moment across the shadows with the realness of their proximity, before he followed her to the door, and though the setting had changed, it felt like they were back in that hotel hallway, knowing exactly what it was that awaited them once they made their way inside.

She turned the key and led him in, immediately dropped her bag to the floor of the entry and braced her back firm against the wall as he flipped the lock again behind them.

"You came."

"You asked," Rick said and was on her in a second.

Their mouths went at each other with the hunger of days not hours, the assuagement of it dribbling out of them in purrs and moans that echoed off the walls. He drove his knee between hers, spread her thighs for the access he wanted and heard her hiss in a breath when his hips rocked.

"What is that? What's-" Kate asked grabbing a handful of his shirt.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." He kissed her penitently on the lips and reached into the front pocket of his jeans. "I brought it for your cat. I forgot it was in there. Are you okay?"

Kate took the can of tuna from his hand and her eyes crinkled at the corners. "You brought Clyde a present?" She scrutinized it from every angle, played suspicious. "Is this supposed to be a bribe or something?"

Rick's mouth dropped open, aping her melodrama. "No, it is not a bribe, and I didn't somehow inject it with poison, either, if that's what you were checking for. Contrary to what you seem to think of me, Counselor, I happen to be a nice guy, who does nice things… for animals."

She bit back a giggle and worked to fight for his eye, though he was determined not to reward it for her mistrust. Eventually, she hooked him by the chin and planted a firm kiss across his pout.

"Got anything in there for me?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "Obviously you wanted it because you summoned me here in the middle of the night, but now I'm not sure you deserve it."

Kate slid a hand into his empty pocket and brushed her fingers against him. "What if I confessed I've been thinking about it all day-in bed, in the shower, in my car... everywhere. Would you let me have it if I told you that?"

"Now who's bribing?"

"Come upstairs with me. Meet the animal you did a nice thing for, and if he likes you, maybe I'll tell you some more."

Rick's face promptly lit up with the glow of self-congratulation. "Seeing as how you stuffed your panties into my pocket this morning, I assume it won't offend your sensibilities if I point out there's probably a pussy joke to be found in there somewhere."

She moved in behind him, inched up onto her tiptoes and dropped a meow into his ear.

**xxxx**

"Tell me something about you." Rick was sitting up on the counter in her kitchen, wearing only his boxers and the scent of her on his skin. "Something I don't know."

It was beyond 1 a.m., and arrows of rain were pelting the roof above them, had been since before they'd managed to climb out of Kate's bed after ravishing one another for the better part of two hours. In the wake of it, fluid replenishment had become more than a want. It'd become an imperative.

Kate put away the last bite of the oatmeal cookie she'd initially shunned but had ultimately succumbed to, and did so around a snort. "Imagine how long that conversation would be," she wisecracked. "You don't know anything about me." It was amazing the clarity that came with being up off one's back.

"I know how sexy you look when you lie," he hit back, taking another mental snapshot of her for his collection in the little she'd bothered to cover herself with. "And I know other things. You don't reward yourself enough, for example." Kate curled her hair behind her ear-all the better to hear the punchline. "Take that oatmeal cookie. Instead of just shoving it into your mouth, you stared at it for ten minutes first and tried to convince yourself you didn't really want it or shouldn't have it."

"I see. So, you're making a sweeping generalization about my life from one cookie?"

Rick nudged himself off the counter, took up position across from her at the island like he felt some battle posture had been called for.

"Before I coerced you with my hot man-body into staying in bed this morning, when was the last time you let yourself sleep in? When was the last time you took a vacation from work or bought something with an extravagant price tag? Life is meant to be lived, Counselor, and there's nothing wrong with that."

Her heart began to pound like the rain as she loaded her comeback clip, and it wasn't a welcome sort of thump.

"Right, because only someone who spends $4,000 on designer suits and has a Mercedes parked in the driveway is really living. That's not real life. That's not the real world. Those are curtains that distract people so they never look inside. And, quite frankly, I don't even know how you find time to do much of anything at all, since you're so busy hocking yourself to anyone with a car or a TV."

He didn't flinch. He didn't twitch an eyebrow. "Don't try to pick a fight with me just because you're scared I might actually be right. We both spend enough of our time fighting. I'm going to go get dressed."

Kate watched him walk away, swallowed the lump in her throat as a foul chaser to the cookie she'd ended up being grateful to have eaten. It drove her mad that he was so goddamn sure of himself, and now she was mad at herself for throwing it in his face so harshly.

"Come on, Rick. You don't have to leave," she told him from the bedroom doorway. "It's a mess out there."

He slid on his second shoe and buckled the belt around his jeans. "I know it is." He walked over and pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Messy isn't always a bad thing, Kate. Messy can also mean fun's being had. I guess I'm just someone who doesn't want to look for reasons to miss it if it is," he said and then he left.

**xxxx**

"They're here," Morgan informed Kate three days later, referring to Rick and James Sullivan, who'd come to the office for a pre-arranged meeting of all parties involved in the Sullivans' ongoing divorce negotiation. "Do you want me to put the husband in the conference room and send in Mr. Castle?" There was a tune in her voice again, and it was one Kate didn't much feel like singing.

She hadn't heard from Rick since he'd run off into the rain, left her house in the middle of the night despite her having asked him to stay-which she was fairly sure she'd done?-and where they stood was anybody's guess. Not that she knew where they stood before. She had no fucking idea.

"Have them both wait in there," Kate instructed coolly. "They showed up early. Claire should be here in a few minutes."

Morgan knew nothing of what'd happened at the conference or since. Kate hadn't even hinted about it. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see something was going on, though, especially not for someone who was as close with Kate as she was.

"You know, you're being strange all of a sudden. Or you're being something. What are you being?"

Kate slapped the file she had in her hand onto the desk. In all honesty, she wasn't really reading it, anyway. That Rick was in the building was all she could think about now. "I go to my parents' and hear it from them. I come here and hear it from you. I'm just working, Morgan. I'm just at work. This is how I am at work."

"Sure," Morgan nodded, "the more you say it the more convinced I absolutely am." The sarcasm in the room was as thick as molasses. "I'll let you know when Claire gets here," she said and backed for the door. "He asked if you were in a good mood, by the way. Looks like I lied."

It was probably better she went in there as she did, prickly and ripe for a round. I mean, apparently they were in the thick of some skirmish, and where did he get off, anyway, whispering about her with her assistant all the time? They weren't in junior high, for crying out loud.

"Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Castle, we appreciate you coming in." Kate pulled out a chair at the conference room table for her client and another for herself. "This shouldn't take much of your time, seeing as I've conferred with Mrs. Sullivan and we both agree that the most recent amendments to your offer are little more than a joke."

Claire nearly spit out the coffee she'd carried in with her, mainly because that hadn't been anything resembling the outcome of the discussion she'd had with Kate just the previous afternoon. In fact, save for a few tweaks related to some personal property acquired during the marriage, she thought they were basically done.

Rick clamped his fingers around James's arm when he opened his mouth to squawk. "Is that right, Counselor? And what about it do you and your client-who was, incidentally, sitting there wide-eyed with surprise-find so amusing? I had thought we were making progress here. It seems I was mistaken."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't had to abruptly end our last conversation, we might be on the same page today. I understand, though. You probably didn't want to keep the director of your next round of TV commercials waiting."

Claire and James, who hadn't been in the same room in weeks and who currently preferred it that way, shared uncertain eyes across the table.

"Home a lot to see those, are you? Not out having fun?"

Kate flipped open the file and shot a puff of air at Claire with the force. "We'd better get on with this. Wouldn't want the paint on your fancy car to get ruined baking out there in the sun. Item three-"

James snickered. Claire sipped.

"Ms. Beckett, can I see you in your office for a minute, please?" Rick was up and out the door before Kate had a chance to shoot him down.

He blew right past Morgan, who jumped up out of her chair like the building must've be on fire and he was the one leading everyone to safety.

"Is everyth-"

Kate was next to come by, but with far less urgency-because that would show him.

"Make sure Claire doesn't leave," she barked. "I don't care what his client does."

Morgan was left standing there alone with her mouth hanging open. How, in that moment, she wished she had the power to see through walls.

Rick was sitting behind Kate's desk twirling the infamous pen between his fingers when she walked in. She didn't slam the door behind her, but the expression she wore screamed of how much she'd wanted to, and when his lips curled, she saw red.

"Do you have any idea how unprofessional that was?" she hissed. "Any idea at all?"

He leaned back in her chair like she'd just asked him for a sports score, as unruffled as she was steaming.

"I'm glad you realize it, Counselor, but I'm sure my client won't hold it against yours. You can assume our current offer will still stand as presented."

"Wait a minute. Did you think that was some kind of an apology?" She took a step nearer, her first.

"Not a very good one, since you asked, but I've decided to let it slide because you've been thinking about me, and that's too good a trade to pass up. Your eyes look incredible today, by the way, even though they could barely look at me in there. That's how I knew. When you don't look at me, it's because you think I'll see it."

Kate wished she'd taken two more steps to be able to grab onto the back of the nearest chair for help in remaining vertical.

"I can't do this here, and we can't do this now." Rick got up and came around the desk. "We just left them in there."

He swiped an errant strand of hair away from her face. "I know. I wish we didn't have to go back. I had a dream about the two of us in this office you really should hear."

"Are you ever serious about anything?" The anger she'd pulled on as pointlessly as a parka in summer was gone from her voice, due in no small part to the influence of his touch. "I don't know what to say now."

"Then I'll say something, and then we can go. The other night, I didn't leave because it was what I needed. I left because it was what you needed. I'm good at knowing what I want and not being sorry for it, Kate. I thought you might've been ready for that, but you weren't, and my being there wasn't going to help. But understand that what I want is you, and that isn't going to change. That's how serious I am about it."

She heard her heart whisper _I might be_, but it never came out of her mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Kate took measure of her end-of-day look in the rearview mirror and scrunched her nose at its reply. At that hour, it normally wouldn't matter the state in which the grind had left her, because there was no one to look or to see, to care. Normally she'd be headed home only to Clyde, and he wouldn't give a damn if she walked in with fourteen heads, as long as kibble clanked in his dish five minutes later.

Rick had invited her to come to the condo for dinner, though. That wasn't normal. That was complicated and stirring and, she decided, worth a fresh gloss of mascara.

"Hang on a sec. I need to grab my purse." She reached down and collected it from the floor of the passenger side, dug inside for the extra help. "Sorry. I look awful."

"Like that's even possible," Lanie returned. "You're nervous is what it is, and there's no reason for it. I mean, you've already had headboard-cracking sex with the man, so that's a load off the pressure, and it's only dinner. Just go in there and eat some chicken and relax about it. Have a good time. From what you've told me so far, I know you remember what that is."

Kate set her phone to hands-free mode and swiped her lashes with the brush dipped in black. "That's the thing, Lanie. I can't relax around him. All I want to do is…"

"Get to crackin' some more headboard?"

She twisted the cap closed, swapped the mascara for a tin of mints and popped three-one because she could still taste coffee on her breath and the other two for good measure. "I guess that, too. I don't know. It's hard to explain."

"Girl, please. It's not that hard and you know it. Look, no one's going to tell you it isn't scary at first, Kate, or in the middle or at the end. I sure as hell won't, and there's always going to be a chance that something might go wrong, even when that something seems perfect. Unfortunately, you've been there. So have I, and I know you better than most people. I know that if you feel different about this one, then this one is different. For once, maybe don't look for all the reasons you shouldn't. Instead, be open to one of the reasons you should. Sometimes one is enough."

Kate had struck the best friend lottery, and she was damn grateful for it.

"How fast can you get here so you can come inside with me?"

"Pour me enough wine and I might go for that threesome kink sometime," Lanie teased, "but not tonight. I'll be there with you in spirit. How's that?"

Kate turned off her car and chewed the mints to chalk. "I love you," she said. "You're always exactly what I need."

"Love you, too, and I expect a call tomorrow about what it's like up there. _Greenwich_? I bet that's some headboard he's got going on. Oh, and one last thing. Please don't even think about inviting me over for breakfast to thank me. From now on, we eat out."

**xxxx**

Rick came downstairs and met Kate in the lobby of his building, and though he seldom made use of them, gave her a tour of its many luxurious amenities because, regardless of that, he still found them impressive enough to show off, and he rarely passed up an opportunity to show off.

He'd already changed out of his customary suit and slipped on a pair of jeans, coupled them with a button-down he'd left untucked and rolled the sleeves, and despite the premium she knew he paid for the former, she preferred how his body wore casual, how it complemented the side of him she'd only just begun to explore.

"I drive by this building every time I go to my parents'," Kate said when they climbed into the elevator alone, because that was the sort of gibberish her butterflies prompted.

Rick turned to her and curled his lips, which she didn't see because she was staring too intently at the blinking red light of the floors they were floating past. "Must be fate, huh?"

That got her attention.

"What?"

"You're nervous, Counselor." The door chimed and opened and he settled a hand at the small of her back to usher her out. "Not that it isn't charming as hell on you, but I don't suppose you'll tell me why. Okay, that's fine. You don't have to," he continued when she didn't. "This is me. Hang a left."

Kate stood only a couple of steps through his door, but what she could already see of the place Rick called home wasn't what she'd imagined it would be. And she had let herself imagine.

It was soft. It was subtle. It was reserved, and that the two belonged to one another felt akin to butterfly wings on a bull.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think it's gorgeous, Rick. And… surprising," she added faintly.

He stepped in behind her, pressed his lips to the hair that dangled across her ear. "It's even more gorgeous with you in it." Out on the counter sat two glasses of wine. One he plucked and presented. "Take it with you. I'll walk you around."

Every inch of it looked straight out of some spread for a design magazine, almost museum-like, but with warmth abounding beneath its surface, and it wasn't lost on her that Rick now triggered the very same reaction in her, however adverse she'd initially been to the notion.

"It's big," Kate noted upon entering his bedroom for the first time and elicited a snicker from its dweller.

"I guess you'd know, wouldn't you?" Rick poked, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. "Confession: I just made this when I got home. I'm more of a sleep-and-run guy."

That bit didn't surprise.

"Actually, so am I."

Rick drank her in from head to toe like she'd stripped bare. "No, you are all woman." In a blink, his tone shifted. "Kate, I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me because I told you how I feel. What can I do or say?"

"Was that the oven beeping?" she replied with a flippancy that only served to feed into the vibe he'd picked up on. But, honestly, what was there to deny? "Why are you being like this?" It was audible, but barely so.

"This could be painful, but why am I being like what?"

Kate hung her head. "I didn't mean you."

He set his glass of wine on the floor at his feet, reached out a hand. "Would you come stand closer to me, please?" She did, and he thanked her with a kiss of her palm. "I get that I'm not a man you might choose, and I know we're not the same, but I don't think that means we can't be good or that this isn't right. I don't know how to let something as rare as you just go by."

Kate cradled her hand around his cheek. "I've had to listen to you say it a thousand times, how much you hate hassles. I don't know why you'd choose me, either. Honey and trouble, remember?"

He flashed a peek at her thighs and came back. "I definitely remember, but you aren't the trouble. Imagine a man like me, having to grasp at the hope of being enough for a woman like you."

There it was in him, too, in those kind eyes that'd seemingly laid bare his every aspect. Beneath the swagger and the wit and the flash was the secret he'd been hiding. It was fear.

Kate leaned in, brushed her lips against his. "If I help you to not be scared, will you help me?"

"I swear under oath, Counselor," he said, hooking her at the hips.

"There's no bible here."

"No, but there is your body." He kissed her belly. "I'd say that's even holier. After we eat, maybe you'll let me show you how much I worship it."

She took him by the hands and pulled him up. "Depends how good it is."

"Please, look at this place. You know I'd only call for delivery of the very best."

**xxxx**

Halfway through their meal, which had already taken up a fair chunk of time because they couldn't manage to stop sampling one another between bites, the front door opened and Martha came through it like a shot, dressed in full tennis attire-in itself, perplexing enough.

"Oh, hello darling," she said, startled to see him there but in a welcome way. "How odd that in all this time, I don't think I've ever seen you sit at that table to eat. What's the special occasion?"

Kate had stepped away to use the restroom and hadn't yet returned, Rick looking back over his shoulder toward the hallway when he heard the splash of water in the sink.

"Yeah, I usually don't. Um, I wasn't expecting to see you, Mother. You said you were going to be home late." He sounded like a kid about to get caught at something, and the fact that Kate would now be faced with meeting her so soon, and that it would be a surprise on top of it, worried him on multiple levels.

"Change of plans is all. I won't be in your hair but a minute. I was just…" Martha screeched to a halt mid-thought when Kate emerged. "Well, now who do we have here?" She dropped her racket onto the kitchen's island and glided over. "You certainly look like a special occasion. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Yes, she does," Rick mumbled to Kate, yet loud enough for both women to pick it up. "Kicking off a relationship with a lie, Mother? Well done. Kate, this is my mother, Martha. Mother, this is Kate. Ms. Navratilova here was just about to explain why she has to leave as suddenly as she arrived. The outfit's really something, by the way."

Kate again took her seat at the table, already enjoying mother/son the show.

"You never let an opportunity pass, Richard," Martha sighed, "and not to worry, as you pointed out with deafening relief, I'm merely passing through to swap my tennis whites for something more restaurant-appropriate, by which, of course, I mean inappropriate." The wink in her voice required no actual wink. "One of the silver foxes, as you call them, has asked to take me out on the town."

"Finally snagged one, did you?" Rick turned to Kate to explain. "Mother's had her eye on a couple of CEOs who live here in the building. In her free time, which is basically every minute of every day, she likes to stalk them around the gym downstairs. She's been hoping to rope one before I boot her out of here."

Martha swiped a carrot from his plate and popped it into her mouth. "I raised far too generous and kind a man to ever evict his mother. And you, fair Kate, whoever you are, are lovely. I hope my son is treating you the way a proper gentleman should. Now, I really must get going, so I can get this thing going." She gave Rick a gentle bop on the head with her elbow. "If this is the one you told me about, it's tough to see how I could blame you."

"It must be a family thing," Kate said once Martha scurried off and disappeared. "I felt like I'd been hit by a truck the day I met you, too."

Rick laughed out his understanding. "I love her, but she frequently warrants apology. She's been staying here with me. It was supposed to just be a visit, but a visit usually implies a person intends to leave at some point. After four months, I've quit holding my breath."

She laced her fingers between his. "So, you already told her about me, huh, or was she referring to one of the many other women you've had up here to try and seduce with fancy takeout?"

Not a second's hesitation preceded his answer. "I don't want any other women. I knew that the minute I met you. You said for you it was a truck. For me, meeting you was more like a bullet train at full speed, or one of those pianos in cartoons that drops from the sky and lands on an unsuspecting guy walking down the street." He gave her hand a squeeze when her eyes fell away. "I'm sorry if that was too much."

"Don't apologize. Just kiss me."

The instant their lips met, Martha came charging back into the room, her form now dripping in gold sequins. "Don't stop on my account, you two. I'm a ghost." She twirled and posed. "But first, how do I look? Not target enough or do you think Cupid's arrow can find me in this?"

"I think Cupid and his arrow could probably find you in that from space, Mother. And you look perfect. Go get 'em."

"Thank you, darling. You kids have fun. Don't wait up."

Rick got up with her exit and went into the kitchen for the open bottle of wine, and Kate tracked him with her eyes the entire way. She had a thousand new questions-a thousand more than she'd already had moments before-but what came out of her wasn't any of them.

"I feel happy when I'm with you. I like it." She came for him when he remained. "I talked to Lanie before I came up here tonight, and she gave me a piece of advice. She said I should stop focusing on all the reasons why I shouldn't get myself into this with you, and start focusing on the reasons I should. I guess feeling happy is a pretty good place to start."

He wrapped her up in his arms, released the breath it seemed he'd been holding in his lungs for days.

"I can tell. Lanie's going to be one of my new favorite people," he said. "But, wait, _all _the reasons you shouldn't?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

They saw each other every night for the four that followed dinner and foodless dessert at the condo-the kind of seeing each other that involved hands and mouths and breathy pleas for the prolongation of the pleasure delivered by both-until Kate's body finally raised the white flag in need of a fucking break. Literally.

Just one day without, and she missed him. It hit her how much as she sat at her desk that morning, where instead of focusing on the welcome letter for a new client she was supposed to be drafting, she'd let her imagination wander into a fantasy of Rick kneeling beneath her desk and…

"Look what just came." Morgan bounced into the office with a garden-size bouquet of flowers in one hand and a pair of envelopes in the other. "This one has your name on it. The delivery guy said I had to wait for you to open yours and then give you an instruction."

The intrusion on her play tied Kate in a swift knot. She could already nearly feel the tingle lavished by the skilled flick of his tongue.

"What are you talking about? What are those?"

An envelope flew onto her desk and landed square. "You have to open it now." She acquiesced, went to work at it through her haze of confusion and muffled arousal. "He got my name right this time. These are his apology and thanks."

"Thanks?" Kate pulled the card free, which read simply, "Don't worry. I have something for you, too."

Morgan waited for her cue, and when Kate's cell phone rang, she did her duty, as she was told. "Answer it," she said and dipped her nose into the cone of petals.

"Don't get used to playing boss," Kate snipped, but softened when she saw Rick's name lit up on the screen. "Kate Beckett," was her salutation of choice, which prompted her own roll of the eyes.

"Pretty formal for a woman who had her tongue in my ear a couple of nights ago," Rick teased. "You read the note?"

"I did."

"I do have something for you. Actually, I have two things. Which would you like first, the professional or the personal? I should warn you that the personal something might make you blush, so if you'd rather wait until you're alone…"

Kate reached for her coffee and downed a sip to clear the Sahara from her throat. "Professional, please. Okay, um, hang on a sec," she went on when Rick gave her a direction to switch the phone to speaker mode.

"You're there too, Morgan?" he asked and received affirmation. "I wanted to share the good news with both of you. As of 7 p.m. last night, the James and Claire Sullivan divorce settlement is finally complete. All we need is some autographs and we have a done deal."

"Wow, that's great," Morgan chirped. "I wasn't sure those two would ever agree."

"No-hassle Castle comes through again."

Kate side-eyed the phone. "Seriously?" With a flick of her chin, she sent Morgan from the room and brought the phone to her ear. "This has been the version of you that isn't a hassle?"

"Tell me you want the other thing now."

She felt a twitch between her legs with his insistence, flashed on a memory of her back pressed against the shower wall.

"I want to see you tonight," she confessed first, proud for having not made any attempt to mask it. "And I do want the other thing."

"Use your laptop. Check your email." He'd sent her a link while they were talking-a link to that favorite local shop of hers-which she clicked open. "Do you like it?"

"Why? Are you going to wear it for me?" It was everything a sumptuous lingerie set should be. That was the other thing she spent good money on, that and the stilettos.

"If lace does it for you, I can try and find it in my size. In the meantime, I thought you might wear it. I figured it might fill the hole left by what you gave me, since I'll never be returning those." He hollered for someone away from the phone. "I'll have the Sullivan paperwork messengered over. Meet me at Mediterraneo at 7:30 p.m.? I'll come straight from my meeting."

_Fill the hole_ she thought after she agreed and hung up, and she laughed.

**xxxx**

"I really didn't like not seeing you last night," Rick told Kate across their candlelit table at the restaurant that evening, and not for the first time. "Yes, I know." Her look spurred commentary. "I wanted to add the _really_ this time. Were you and my buddy, Clyde, able to get some good rest, at least?"

She had been, eventually, but not before scratching the itch he hadn't been there to scratch for her- not physically, at least. Despite the weariness of her muscles and the prickle left by nights of his vigorous occupation, she'd been unable to leave it be, the craving for his touch, so she'd called up his image and employed it as her inspiration.

Kate's eyes rolled left and then right to scope out the occupants of the tables on either side of them, who all seemed safely engrossed in their own conversations. "I'm sure Clyde, the bum that he is, slept all day and still managed to. I tried to go to bed early, but I couldn't fall asleep." She brought her wine glass to her lips. "I had to go into the drawer."

"The drawer," Rick sighed with the good fortune of knowing what was hidden inside. "Did you use the…?"

"I did, but I imagined it was you."

"You're killing me here." His head darted around in search of their server. "God, I've never wanted so much to pay for lobster I've only eaten two bites of." He pointed at her plate. "How fast do you think you can eat that so I can get you out of here and into-"

"Katie?"

Kate looked over her shoulder, found her mother standing over her with a woman she didn't recognize. Half a second later and it would've been questions for days.

"Hey, Mom. What are you doing here?"

"We just finished eating. We've been dying to try this place and your father had to work late, so here we are. This is my friend, Hillary. She works with me at the courthouse." Johanna locked eyes with Rick and he threw her a TV-worthy grin. "And I know who you are. I drive by your face every day."

A gentleman, he stood and shook hands with both ladies, introduced himself formally. "I know you said you were through, but, please, if you'd like to sit and have a drink, we can make some room."

Kate narrowed her eyes, but Rick was too busy laying on the charm to notice. "We're just discussing a mutual case, actually. Well, it was. It's settled now, so." She was spinning.

"Well, good for you two. You know, Rick, you're a lot more handsome in person, if you don't mind my saying." Hillary seconded the sentiment with an emphatic nod and stars in her eyes. "Katie didn't tell me you two were working together. Why is that, Katie?"

Rick jumped in because, given the look that took over Kate's face, he sensed he better. "I don't really think I impress Kate all that much. I guess there's a first time for everything," he added for a laugh.

"I don't like to talk about work outside of work, Mom."

Johanna crooked her head the way a dog does when he reacts to an odd sound. "Since when?" She shifted her focus back to Rick. "Since you two are friends, maybe you'd like to join us for dinner on Saturday night. We have a little get-together every week with a small group-casual, at the house. I bet the crowd would get a real kick out of it. I mean, if you're free, of course." She'd all but forgotten Kate was there, it seemed, opting to go on without seeking her daughter's stamp of approval.

"That's very nice of you to offer. I can certainly have a look at my calendar tomorrow and let Kate know, if that's all right?"

"Yes, do, and we'll hope to see you then." She gave Kate a kiss on the cheek and walked off with Hillary, who'd been screaming the entire time without saying a word.

Rick settled back into his seat, but the grin on his face hadn't taken leave with the ill-timed dinner crashers. "I'm going to take a wild guess here and say you haven't told your mother about us. She's delightful, by the way. You look just like her." Kate reached again for her wine glass. "So, what time will you be picking me up for dinner this weekend?"

**xxxx**

Kate crawled up Rick's naked body and from beneath the sheet that Saturday morning, gave his earlobe a nibble before collapsing onto her back beside him.

"Whatever I did to deserve that kind of wake-up, please make sure you tell me what it is when I'm able to think straight again and actually remember it. It might be a while." He turned his head and kissed her shoulder. "Good morning, Counselor. That was nice. You should be careful, though. I could get used to you being the first thing I see in the morning… or feel."

Her eyes slid shut again. "Can we just stay in bed all day? I have so much crap to do, but I don't want to do any of it. You're so warm."

"That was your doing, and I have a few things on my list, too, but I'd rather stay here and do you instead." Rick rolled onto his side, let a fingertip explore the valley of velvet skin between her breasts. "You're very easy to become addicted to, you know. It's like no other high I've ever felt."

"I don't know what I want to tell my parents about us." It sounded as vexatious out loud as the battle over it did in her head. "I don't know if I want to tell them anything."

Rick leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you to. I don't need that to know how you feel. I only need your eyes, and your mouth, and your body here next to mine. Can I ask you something?" he said after a pause for thought. "You don't need to answer if you don't want to."

"No, I haven't faked it," Kate said playfully.

"We'll prove that true again here in a minute. Would you tell me why you didn't end up going through with your wedding?"

It wasn't that it was a particularly difficult thing for her to talk about. It'd hurt, of course, still stung sometimes, but it was more about the cliché of it all. She'd been the one to bear the burden of the embarrassment. She was the one who hadn't been in a serious relationship since, and it'd never been easy for her to acknowledge a failure of her own. Even more so given that this one had happened right under her nose.

Unconsciously, she sucked a deep breath in and let it slide out. "The easy answer? My fiancé mistook my friend's vagina for mine."

"That doesn't sound easy. The hard answer?"

"My fiancé mistook my friend's vagina for mine for months, right in front of me, and I didn't see it. He was, basically, flaunting it, and I was the one who looked like an idiot in the end."

The hand Rick had secured at her waist gave a squeeze and she came over until her body was back on top of his. "I'm sorry that happened to you, and because I want to be the kind of honest man you deserve, I'm also not sorry… and I'm sorry for that. So, maybe I'm honest but I'm selfish, because if all of that hadn't happened, I wouldn't know what it feels like to hold you or kiss you or make love to you, and that's too painful for me to even think about."

"Sometimes I'll be sitting at my desk at work or running on the treadmill in the morning or just, I don't know, doing anything or nothing at all, and you're the only thing I can see or hear."

"I know everybody has access to the same words and anybody can use them, but I won't hurt you like that, Kate, and I don't want you to be afraid to let yourself feel for me what I'm beginning to feel for you. God, if that were even possible."

Kate let her head rest on his chest. It was more than possible.


	9. Chapter 9

From across the room, Jim recognized the opportunity he'd been presented and he seized it, taking aim at his target while the two women in his life, for the moment, were off somewhere together doing women-in-his-life things.

"Richard," he said, preferring the given to the abbreviated, "your glass is empty and that means two things: you're thirsty and I'm a lousy host. Why don't we rectify both, huh?" With a flick of his head, he led Rick on toward the kitchen and their first moment alone.

"You're far from lousy, Jim," Rick insisted, handing over his wine glass when prompted. "I appreciate you and your wife including me tonight. Kate said this is usually an evening among friends, so I'm sure it's a bit strange having me in the mix."

Jim slid the poured cabernet back across the counter, extended his to toast. "Don't be silly. You're a friend of Katie's, so now you're a friend of ours. We're just happy to see her smiling and enjoying herself. Prying her away from that office of hers is like trying to separate a dog from his bone sometimes."

"Your daughter is very focused, yes. I will agree with that. She was a formidable opponent, kept us on our toes, but we're happy to say we made it out with all our fingers intact."

Jim motioned for Rick to have a seat. He did likewise. "I see you on TV a lot, Richard. They play those ads of yours constantly during the ballgames."

Not knowing the man at all, Rick couldn't track the vibe, so he opted to just keep on the path. "I'm not a marketing man by trade, as you know, but I think that's mainly to do with trying to reach a certain demographic."

"Demographic, sure, that makes sense." And then it came. "Now, what might your intentions be toward my daughter, Mr. Castle?"

Rick swallowed a sip of wine far beyond the volume of polite. Just like that, it seemed his status had been downgraded to less cozy surname.

"Sir, um, we're not… I don't… It isn't…" It wouldn't have mattered if he'd suddenly burst into a lesson on the Pythagorean Theorem. He still would've come off like an idiot after such a failure of elocution.

Jim smiled and smiled big. "I'm just kidding. You should drink up, Richard. You could stand to unwind some, like Katie." The men shared a chuckle and Rick had nearly gathered himself. "Seriously, though, what might your intentions be? I don't know what anyone else here tonight is seeing, but you two aren't doing a very good job hiding anything from me."

Rick dropped his chin. Busted.

"You know, Jim, I think for her it feels a bit like ice on a lake. She's taken a step, but she might fall through with the next, which I can understand, given what she went through. I'm doing my best to make sure she knows I'm here to catch her, and I want you to know that, too. Kate isn't like any woman I've ever known, and I consider myself lucky that she's opened the door of her life to me, even if it's just a crack right now."

"She's a tough cookie, my Katie, but her heart is pure gold. Johanna and I just want her to be happy." He offered Rick his hand. "It sounds like you want the same, and that's enough to put my mind at ease." The men shook on it. "For now."

Giggling and with their arms hooked at the elbows, Kate and Johanna came back into the room, turned heads with the sweet harmony.

"I understand, sir. I hope to keep it that way."

"Keep what, what way?" Kate asked, popping a cracker into her mouth.

Rick managed to keep his cool with her with far greater success. "Oh, your father and I were just chatting about the Yankees' and their pitching."

He and Jim shared a glance.

"Hence the need for more wine. Where did my girls run off to?"

Johanna gave her husband a peck on the cheek. "I wanted Katie's opinion on a dress for the wedding we have to go to. Looks like dinner should be ready in about thirty," she said with a check of the oven timer, and then went off to alert the rest of their guests.

"Well, Richard, I'm glad we had a chance to talk for a bit. I'm going to follow that pretty lady and make sure she doesn't get herself into any trouble."

"Sorry about the name thing. It's weird," Kate said once Jim stepped away.

"I like him. He reminds me of one of those great dads from old TV shows, the ones I always watched and hoped someday I'd become with my kids."

It'd been over an hour since she'd kissed him, and hearing him speak of her father that way all at once revved the urge to do so into a necessity.

"I want to show you something. Leave the wine," Kate said and tugged him by the sleeve, out of the kitchen and up the stairs, where she closed them into one of the rooms. In an instant she was on him, her mouth on his, his hair clutched in her fist. "She said we have thirty minutes. That's plenty of time."

Rick dipped into her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "You keep kissing me like that and this room's going to get quite a show. Where have you taken me?" The lights were out. He had no frame of reference.

Kate reached for his belt buckle. "It's my old bedroom," she told him, teasing her hand across the front of his jeans.

"Whoa, okay, that's pretty hot. Let me see it."

"_Now_?"

He grabbed her by the arms with a final kiss, hard and fast. "Did you really expect to bring me in here and then not show it to me? I'll give you what you want, Counselor, but, come on, quid pro quo. This is fantasy stuff."

She let her forehead fall to his chest, reached around his body for the light switch on the wall. "Fine, but I'm not going to show you what's in the closet. You definitely won't be able to handle that." Backing up a few steps, she dropped onto the bed, leaned back on her elbows. "What's the big deal about it, being in here?"

"Well, it's nothing weird, so don't say it like that, first of all. Come on. This room is a big part of where you became you, the woman I…" Rick caught himself before the word came out. "I guess I just think it's fascinating, getting to see a side of you I haven't. And I think I've made it pretty clear how fond I am of your sides," he said with a waggle of his brows.

"My mom told me her friend, Hillary, couldn't stop talking about you after the restaurant the other night. She said she was like a teenage girl flipping out over David Cassidy."

"Oh yeah? Is she single?" He pushed in closer to a photograph hanging on the wall. "When's this from?"

"Very funny, and I was probably twelve. That was at my dad's cabin in New York. We used to go there a lot in the summers. I imagine you're not the outdoorsy type." Rick eyed her over his shoulder. "Call it a hunch."

"I mean, I won't be riding a moose or opening a can of beans with my teeth or anything, but I can flip the switch on a fireplace with the best of 'em." He moved for the bed, planted his hands on either side of her thighs. "Speaking of flipping switches, you ever have s-e-x in here?"

Kate pushed him back at the chest and kept pushing until he collided with the closet door. "Not with someone else," she baited.

That's when Rick took the reins. That's when his fingers went to work on her button and then her zipper, the room's light gifting him the heightened titillation of looking her in the eye when they slipped between satin and skin and she sucked in an audible hint of a breath.

"If I pretend to not know what that means, would you explain it to me slowly and in graphic detail?"

When he began to play, to circle and graze what'd already swelled with the promise of his touch, Kate angled her hips for more, fought to hold back a moan worthy of the artistry of his prowess.

"If dinner wasn't in the oven right now, I'd easily get my ass kicked out of here by Jim and Johanna for what I'd be doing to their daughter. Foiled again by a pot roast," he joked as he met her open mouth, muffling the sound when she came.

"I've never met the victim of a meat conspiracy before," Kate said licking the moisture from her lips, "much less let one get to third base." Laughter scrunched her eyes shut.

Rick fastened up her pants. "Killed two birds with one stone-much less _hassle_," he retorted, pushing in for her ear. "I've never felt anything as incredible as you."

"It's amazing what your fingers can do when they aren't holding snooty pens."

He pulled back, the reverence in his gaze a light of its own. "That's not what I meant." There was more to be said, but not there and then. "Are you ready? Can you walk on your own or would you like a ride?" He spun and offered his back.

Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and clasped them in front.

"I know that wasn't what you meant."

**xxxx**

"Just once I'd like your mother to let me order pizzas for one of these things," Jim said to Kate while Johanna was off attending to last minute beverage needs. "She does realize there are only seven of us, right? There's enough food here to feed a football team."

Kate gave his arm a loving squeeze. Sometimes she could hardly bear how sweet a man her father was. "There are too few pleasures in life, Dad. Let her do her thing and enjoy it. Just make sure you always keep extra wine handy, for all of us."

"That friend of yours over there seems like a fine man. He even made an effort to pretend he knew something about the Yankees. I let him get away with it, but you're going to need to work on him, train him up right." Her eyes had drifted to Rick, fixed and unblushing. "Hey, do you remember when you were, I don't know, nine or ten, and I took you out to Great Adventure to ride a looping roller coaster for the first time?"

In spite of her puzzlement at the mention, Kate brightened with the memory. "I made you stand in line for it four times. What the heck made you think of that now?"

"You were so afraid. In the car on the way to the park you barely said a word, but I could hear your little mind racing, and then what happened? We walked all the way over to that coaster, first thing, and you smiled at the kid that strapped us in, and off we went. And you loved it. You let go and you loved it."

"Dad-"

Jim gave her jaw a gentle nudge with his fist and set her course back to Rick. "Getting there is always the toughest and scariest part, Katie, but if you don't ever let yourself get there, you'll never get to be there. Being there is where the good stuff is. It's what it's all about. Take it from your old dad," he said and wandered off.

She stood alone for a minute watching everyone around the dinner table together, how pure their happiness seemed in just being there with one another. Rick took notice and finally won her attention with the heat of his blues.

"Are you okay?" he mouthed, and when she offered nothing to soothe him, he excused himself and headed for her.

Determined, intent, Kate met him halfway, threw her arms around him, and planted her lips firm against his in silent assurance, and even in the face of the crowd they stirred to chatter with the unexpected display, neither acknowledged nor relented.

"Attagirl," Jim said under his breath before Johanna backhanded him on the arm.

"Jim, sweetie," she enthused. "Go grab me my phone. Hillary is absolutely going to flip."

XX


End file.
